


forks in the road

by gladdecease



Series: reports of my death, etc. [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Multiple Endings, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Reunited and It Hurts So Bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladdecease/pseuds/gladdecease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers drowned in the Arctic, but that wasn't the end.</p><p>Of course, you already know that.</p><p>What you might not have known is this: there are three ways it might have gone after that.  One ends well, if sadly.  One is bad, and familiar.  And one was so unlikely to happen, even <em>they</em> can't believe their luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Took the Slow Path

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this fic before June and have come back to it, apologies for the confusion! The structure was vexing me, and had for some time, so I've rearranged things. What was previously the first part of this fic is now a standalone prequel, under the title this fic used to have, [As Samuel Clemens would say:](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1797169/)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are three ways it might have gone.
> 
> This way, Bucky gets an unexpected visitor the day after aliens invade Manhattan.

They keep saying Bucky's too old to live on his own. It's probably true, but he's not gonna leave Brooklyn in anything but a hearse, and he'll only go to one of the local "assisted living facilities" when they have to wheel him in.

Today, he's still walking, so he's still living on his own.

He eats something the Meals on Wheels people brought around, Skypes his granddaughter (" - and really, Rikki, would it _kill_ your brother to call me once in a while? Not to play the "old man with little time left" card, but I _am_ a very old man, and my time left on this Earth _is_ short."), and thinks about heading outside for a bit, maybe get up to the memorial. His knees feel up to it, but in the end he decides against it. He's old, and tired, and a little empty the way a lot of vets are, but he's not _stupid_. That mess with the aliens in Manhattan - was it yesterday, or the day before? Either way, who knows what he might run across.

Ten minutes into a dull and inaccurate biopic on the Howling Commandos, the buzzer to his apartment goes off. Grateful for an excuse to shut his TV off, he stands up (which takes longer than he'd like) and shuffles over to the speaker. "Yeah?"

"Wanna let your favorite nephew up?" a familiar voice asks.

"That's funny, I don't remember having any..." Bucky grins. "Tony Stark, is that you?"

"Yeah, I woulda just knocked at your window, but one: it's a small window, and two: I didn't want to give you a heart attack."

"I'm sorry, which of the two of us has a heart condition?" Bucky depresses the button to unlock the front door before Tony can respond. "And sure, come on up, kid." He unlocks the front door while he's there, then wanders into the kitchen to see if he has anything to offer. The fridge is emptier than he remembers, and he frowns at it. Sadly, this does not make beverages magically appear.

The front door opens. "My heart condition is _one thing_ , you've got what, forty pills in that little tray of yours?"

"Five pills a day," Bucky says without turning around, "and none of them for my heart. Now," he says, shutting the fridge door and turning around, "what's the special..." There's someone standing behind Tony. Huge, blond, staring at him with wide eyes, kinda familiar...

It can't be. "Occasion," he finishes dumbly.

"Oh, you know, just in the neighborhood, happened to run into this old friend of yours, and I thought, 'Hey! These guys I know know each other, and haven't seen each other in, like, seventy years. I should make that reunion happen.' So here we are!" Tony spreads his hands wide, expectant. A moment later, when nothing has happened but silent staring, he frowns. "What, what's going on, why is this reunion not happening?" He shoves his companion forward. "Come on, Cap, make with the reunionating."

"I - Tony - " he says, and that's his voice, that is _absolutely_ his voice. The one thing actors and imitators never got right.

Which means.

"Jesus Christ, _Steve_ ," Bucky says, sitting down heavily.

Steve - god, it's him, it's really him - how? who cares, he's _here_ \- is at his side in an instant, hand on his shoulder and kneeling so they're at the same height. "Yeah, Buck, yeah. It's me."

Bucky puts his good hand on top of Steve's and squeezes. He doesn't remember them being this big - but maybe it's his hands that've gotten small. More than that's changed since the last time they were both in Brooklyn. "I never thought... oh, Christ." His voice wobbles, and he laughs. "Howard would've had a goddamned field day over this." He glances at Tony, who looks a little embarrassed to be witnessing emotions. "Not that I'm glad he's ten years dead, but I'm a little glad he's ten years dead. Y'know?"

"The man did enjoy a good gloat," Tony says, faux-lightly.

"Look who's talking," Bucky mutters at the same time as Steve. Their eyes meet, and it's too much - they crack up, Bucky wheezing, Steve with the glint of tears in his eyes.

"Well, this was clearly a mistake," Tony says to himself. "I don't enjoy the one nonagenarian laughing at my expense, and now I've got two."

"You brought this on yourself, kid," Bucky says, staring at Steve and grinning and grinning and thanking god he's lived long enough to see this.


	2. Everything New is Old Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are three ways it might have gone.
> 
> This way, those who objected to certain Operation Paperclip recruits were... dealt with, in ways that benefited S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spent much of the last few days debating with myself over whether or not to go back and add the backstory to these endings - the divergence points, a little of the history, etc. For the time being I've decided against it. This way packs more of a punch, IMO.
> 
> Spoilers for _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ follow.

He is given a mission. Fury, Nicholas J. You are the last resort, they tell him. Only act if no others have succeeded.

No others succeed.

The car g̕o͟͞e͏̵̢͞s̶̴̢̢͟ ̵͘͝ơ̵͢ff͠ ̶̢th́́͜é ͠c҉̷͢l̵i̢̕f͝f͜ ͜a̧͞n̶̴d̸ flips. H͢҉̶҉́e His target is trapped, pinned underneath. S̵͞o̶͢͡m̛͞è̵̡ǫ͡n͘e He rips the door off.

̨͢͏̡H͢҉̶҉́é͘ His target is d͏̛͡y̶͟͠i͘͡n̡g̷ gone.

Fury, Nicholas J. is difficult to track, but not impossible. He finds him, shoots him, leaves.

He is followed. His pursuer is ͟͠ ̧͡ ̢͡ ̴̕͡ ́ ̧̛ ҉͜͝ ̵̛ ͘ ̀͝ ̀ ̷̶̨ fast, strong. Has ͡ ̷ ̧̨͞ ̕͘̕ ̧̛ ҉͜͝ ̵̛ ͘ ̀͝ ̧ ͡ a metal shield, wielded like a weapon.

He returns for further instruction. He is given a mission. Rogers, Steven G. Romanov, Natalia A. Confirmed kills within ten hours, they tell him.

He tracks his targets. Soldiers follow him.

"Is he even alive in there?" s̸ơ̶m͘͡eon̶e a soldier wonders.

̧̢"̡Ļ̛͘͢͝o̷͢͠ó͟҉̵͟ḱ̷҉s̸̕͟ ̸͞l̷i͞͞ķe̢͘͜ ̷i̷̸͘t̴,̴" "Does it matter?" another says.

"Not so long as he still "̡͟͠G͏̵o̸͞҉o̴ḑ̶.̵̢ ́ ̴Z͞o̶͝ļà̢ ͏̷̧s̕a̴̡͟i̵d h̸̵̡e͞͠ ̕c̵͏͠o̢ú̀l̷̀͘d҉̧͟ ͡m̴͜a͢k̡͢e͝ ҉̨i͠͝t͏͡ ̸̢̕śo̵ ͡h̕̕e͏̶ works for us."

"Trust me, he ̕͡ẃ͠i̵̵l͘͝l̶̴͠ does." 

He locates his targets. He pursues them, targets them, fires. Soldiers follow him.

Romanov, Natalia A. breaks his goggles with a bullet. He attacks.

Rogers, Steven G. tears off his mask. He ͘ ̧͞ ̴̧ ̸̡ ̡̀̕ ̴̧́ ̴̷ ̨̢͠ ̷͡ ̧̀ ́̕ ҉ ̶̢

The target  ̵͞͏͢ ̷̛͜͡ ̴̡ ̵̴̛͟͟ ̴̡͠ ̀҉̴̨ ̕͘͡ ̸̧͜͜͟ ̸̢̨̛͟ ̶̶͝ ̴̷҉ ̸͘

"Bucky?"

He  ͠҉͜ ̶̴̶͜ ̡͟͜ ́͜͠͠ ̸̶̧͘͜ ̨͢͟͢͠ ̶̴͘ ̶̶̡ ̸̴̕͡͡ pauses. "Who the hell is Bucky?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the longest time this one was titled "wINTER SOLDIER IS INEVITABLE, BITCHES," but I decided that lacked a certain... subtlety, lets call it. (Also, "BITCHES" was unnecessary.)
> 
> The summary also used to have S.H.I.E.L.D. written as S.H.I.E.L.D., but I realized half an hour before posting that it's probably still too soon to put that kind of thing before your spoiler warning.


	3. Happy Days Are Here Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are three ways it might have gone.
> 
> This way, Steve wakes up to a friendly face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so much longer than the others - Remix deadline got in the way of finishing it, and then two other fics-not-yet-posted demanded my attention. (One of them is about twice as long as this fic, and is two scenes from finished.) Hope the More or Less Happy Ending™ lives up to your expectations!

Agents nod and smile and stare at Bucky as he passes. He's come to associate the different reactions with how long someone's been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. - with the occasional exception. (He doesn't think Phil Coulson's ever going to stop staring.) For a few years in the nineties it bothered him, that he was getting gawkers while Howard and Peggy and Chester got salutes, but it's been long enough that he's gotten used to it, even if it's still a bit annoying.

After all, they could have worse reasons for staring at him.

Today it's mostly nods; Nick put together a experienced team for this one. A junior agent who looks a bit like Peggy has been given victory rolls and a decent mockup of the old uniform, and Bucky thinks maybe she could pull it off. The team leader's standing over a bunch of screens, monitors inside the room and digital charts displaying vital signs, and almost everything is perfect.

But then Bucky catches the recording they've put on the radio and groans.

The team leader turns, salutes after an angry, confused moment. "Direct - ah, I mean, Mr. Ba - "

"If I've told you all once, I've told you a thousand times: call me Bucky." Bucky rolls his eyes at the uncomfortable look that crosses the faces of most people in the room, who may look twice his age but are at most half it, who can't stand the idea of referring to such an esteemed man by his _nickname_ , even at his own request. "This op's a bust."

"Sir?" Bucky glares at him. "Er... Bucky? What do you mean?"

"Tell whoever picked out this game to do his research better next time," Bucky says, and grabs a chair as he walks into the room. He doesn't pause by the door, doesn't go over to the bed; no, he puts the chair down facing the window and slumps down into it, lets his legs stretch out until his toes brush against the wall. There's a breeze coming in, and most of the sounds of the city are muted, and for a moment Bucky can close his eyes and pretend.

Maybe it's nostalgia - maybe it's the man waking up in the bed behind him - but of all the decades he's lived through, the thirties and forties are still his favorite. Though who knows? Maybe present-day will beat them out eventually. It's got some good points to it, and recently gained an serious advantage over the years since 1945.

The bed creaks.

"Sad, isn't it?" Bucky says. He can feel eyes on him now, wonders if he's been recognized. "Ask a guy to find a radio show from the forties, to put you at ease, and he picks a ball game from 1941. One you went to, no less."

"Who...?" The bed creaks again, there's a near-silent thud of feet against the floor, and still Bucky can't bring himself to look.

"They shoulda known better," Bucky says, standing up. "Heck, _I_ shoulda known better. There's no way to break this to you easy, and we shouldn'ta tried."

A hand lands on his shoulder, turns him around. "Bucky," Steve says, eyes wide.

A shaky grin spreads across Bucky's face. "Hey, Steve. Good to see you up." Nick had called him first thing, when the team in the Arctic had found the Valkyrie, offered to let him sit in on any part of the proceedings. Bucky'd nodded, and walked out without another word. It was only when Phil called to tell him Steve was breathing that he got involved again. Even then, watching him lie there was something Bucky couldn't do. Now... he claps a hand on Steve's shoulder, warm and living and here. "Real good."

"You too," Steve says, smiling like he can't believe this is real. A furrow develops in his brow. "But... what do you mean, break to me easy?"

Bucky doesn't know how to say this. He swallows thickly, looks away. "You were in the water for a long time, Steve."

He frowns. "Months?"

"Years."

Steve shakes his head after a minute. "Can't be that long," he says with a laugh, "you don't look a day over - "

"I am, though," Bucky interrupts him. Steve leans back, startled. Bucky drops his hand. "A little knock-off Super Soldier Serum from HYDRA, a little filtered Super Soldier blood from the SSR, and now I'm the healthiest ninety-four year old the world's ever seen." He tries to crack a smile. "Not to mention the best-looking."

"Ninety - _ninety-four_?" Steve shakes his head again, but he looks less certain about it now. "You - this is a joke, right? You're messing with me?"

Bucky can't stand the look in his eyes. "Come on outside, I'll show you." He opens the door, and most of the agents have scattered. Good, this is already going to be overwhelming. Steve follows, doubtful, as Bucky leads him through dark hallways into the kind of enormous glass-walled entryway that could belong to any business in New York, and from there out onto the street. 

It's there that it seems to hit Steve, surrounded by animated billboards and crowds of strangers, that this isn't a joke. His face twists into something hurt and confused, and Bucky's got a hand on his shoulder before he can think twice. Steve looks at him, and he says the first thing that comes to mind: "Not quite what Stark was expecting, is it?"

That gets a snort of laughter out of Steve. He looks away from Bucky, at the bright, shiny chaos of Times Square, and his face falls again. "It's just so..." he says, trailing off helplessly.

"A lot to take in?"

Steve nods, looking lost.

"Hey," Bucky says, squeezing Steve's shoulder and hoping his smile fits a little better this time. "Don't worry about it. You and me, we're together in New York again. The rest can wait, right?"

"Right," Steve says, smiling, and if there's still a shocked sadness to him, well, it's more than Bucky ever dreamed he'd see again. He gives Steve's shoulder another squeeze, and leads him back inside for a change of clothes and a more formal debrief.


End file.
